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It was good to be home, Takami Shinya thought, exhausted and elated as he walked down the final worn path that would take him out of the forest towards the little shack he called home.
It had been nearly a year since he’d left home for a long-term job that ended up being much longer than what his client had originally promised him. It had been an exorbitantly well paying job, though, with a client who’d been well known to come through with his price tag for a job well done. So Shinya hadn’t said much about the extended deadline, only exchanging commiserating looks with his co-worker for the job, risked a call to Tomie to update her on the situation, and gritted his teeth to deal with it.
The haul, on top of the client’s payoff, had been well worth it.
And Shinya could finally go home.
He probably should’ve waited until after dusk to come home, but his identity hadn’t been discovered yet so he should be safe. And after nearly a year, he couldn’t wait to see his wife again, to crash down on their bed, curl up into his long-missed nest and sleep safely as Tomie hummed softly in the background.
Damn, he missed his best friend. Sporadic, trailing off into nearly nonexistent, phone calls over the course of his job really hadn’t been enough.
And as if he’d conjured her by his thoughts, Tomie’s soft humming filled his ears. His sharp, enhanced hearing catching on her familiar voice as he wound through the slums in the shadows. His wings, tucked against his back, fluffed up at the sound. He could almost feel himself relaxing.
He slipped ‘round the back path, moving towards the fenced in patch of dirt Tomie had transformed into a vegetable patch, instead of going through the house, grinning when his wife’s humming continued cheerfully.
It must be a good day, he thought, warmly. Tomie’s fragile mental health had always been something they’d been aware of even as kids. Something they’d had to plan for when Shinya was gone for so long and there was no one around to ground her. It hadn’t gotten any worse in recent years, but it always made coming back home on a good day that much warmer.
I can take some time off after that job, he thought, running the numbers through his head. With the breadth of the last hall, the client’s payoff - they could more than afford their expenses for another six months. Hell, maybe even more than that, if they stretched it.
Maybe he could even take Tomie out to the beach for dinner, he mused. They hadn’t gone out, even before he’d gone off on his job, for a while.
There was one of Tomie’s floating eyes settled on top of the little makeshift garden wall they’d built, drawing his attention away from beach planning, which widened when it caught sight of him. His smile widened as the humming faltered abruptly, pushing into the garden just as Tomie whirled around to face him, eyes bright and grinning.
“Shin-chan,” she exclaimed, laughing as he reached her first, picking her up to whirl her around, “you’re back!”
“Heya Nesty,” he murmured, voice softening as he set her back down and curled closer, feeling himself relax fully for the first time in ages as the familiar scent of his best friend hit him, “missed you.”
He felt her smile pressed against his skin, one of her hands reaching up to card through his hair.
“I missed you too, Shin-chan,” she hummed, “you were gone for a while this time.”
He pulled back, apology in his eyes, “I know,” he sighed, “the job went a lot longer than we thought it would. But it paid off well enough - I should be able to stick around for a lot longer this time.”
Tomie smiled, “That’s good,” she said airily, and he huffed a laugh.
Yeah. Yeah it was.
He pulled away from her, turning his eyes on their little garden, surveying everything. He blinked twice at a - was that a pumpkin?
“Shit, Nesty,” he said, blinking at the giant gord, “where’d you get that from?”
She grinned, “One of the bakery kids was working on pumpkin carving for some online challenge and was selling the earlier takes for dead cheap. Got some of the seeds and decided to try growing some.”
He whistled, long and low. He knew she’d had a green thumb, but pumpkins? Shit, he’d really been gone for too long.
“What else you been up to while I was gone?” he asked, curiosity peaking.
Tomie only hummed, quiet mischief in her smile, “Lots of things have happened, Shin-chan.”
He blinked, wondering how to begin to address that, when something caught in his hearing. Something he should’ve definitely heard sooner, if he hadn’t been so distracted with Tomie’s humming and his homecoming. But he could swear that he was hearing -
Was something - cheeping? His brows furrowed. They didn’t get a lot of birds around the house, not with him around. He was clearly a predator, and he ate birds often enough that most of them had learned better than to stay near his nest. He had been away for a while, though, so he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d started showing up again, but -
But.
This cheeping sounded like it was coming from inside the shack.
“Tomie,” he asked slowly, “d’you get a bird or somethin’?”
Mischief gleamed bright and warm in his best friend’s eyes, the floating ones crinkling into signature eye-smiles as she considered him.
“Why don’t you go inside and find out?” she suggested. There was something anticipatory in the air, but not worried, so he brushed off the stirrings of nerves and slipped into their home. He moved through the sectioned off living spaces, brushing away dividers to ease his path, ears honed in on the cheeping that sounded like it was coming from his and Tomie’s room. But when he got there, he froze. Because there, tucked away in their room, was a -
There was -
His brain stalled. He staggered forward, without noticing the way Tomie smiled, without registering the way his wings had unfurled protectively.
Without realizing a little part of his heart was tugging him forwards.
Towards the crib.
It was a worn looking thing - probably a hand-me-down from one of Babushka’s many kids, because even worn it was a far sight nicer than anything they or their neighbors could afford - but sturdy enough that Shinya let it take some of his weight when he looked over the rim and felt his legs go shaky.
That was a chick in the crib. A chick with fluffy-soft golden hair and wings covered in rich red baby down feathers, who was cheeping softly, splayed on its back and playing with its footie-covered feet.
That was his chick in the crib.
Tomie’s hand was warm against his arm, as he whipped back to stare at her wide-eyed, and she smiled.
“I found out just a month after you’d left,” she said quietly, glancing at the chick considering its foot contemplatively, “I thought I’d wait until you came home to tell you, but your job kept getting delayed and we couldn’t call often. So, I waited.”
She reached into the crib, tugging on a little foot playfully, the chick chirping gleefully as little hands reached out to grasp at her hand. She looked back up to his shocked face with a smile, “His name is Keigo.”
She reached past his still form and scooped up the chick - their chick - in a practiced motion as it - as Keigo - chirped at her. It was a standard little greeting sequence, the one a chick offered to their parents. An instinctual little thing that Shinya vaguely remembered offering up to his own parents, before he’d been old enough to know better.
Instinct he’d thought he’d long since gotten a handle on reared up, and a return greeting sequence - a mix of coos, buzzes and chirps - rumbled from his throat. From a parent to their child.
And immediately, bright baby-wide golden eyes - brighter, purer, than his had ever been - turned to blink at him, and Shinya stared back.
In his chest, something impossibly warm unfurled. Like standing in a patch of warm sunlight after slipping away from the chill of a late-night stakeout, letting it sink down bone deep and sear away every ounce of the cold. Like the dawn of a new day.
Little Keigo chirped at him, losing all interest in his mother’s hands in favor of this new-safe stranger who could chirp and make sounds just like he could, and felt like his Mama did . Baby wings fluttered excitedly.
Tomie’s lips quirked as Shinya kept staring, “He’ll need to go down for a nap soon,” she told him, “But until then,” she offered him the squirming chick that was flailing at him, “do you want to take him, Shin-chan?”
His body moved before his mind could even process anything past baby gold eyes staring at him. He was vaguely aware of Tomie settling Keigo into his arms, shifting them here and there to correct his hold, and then all of his attention was on the little bundle of chick in his arms.
Shinya was a thief. He was on his way to becoming a full fledged Thief, recognized by all and sundry by his Name even if no one knew who he was. He’d stolen back stolen artwork, precious jewels, important documents, and an infinite number of treasures.
And nothing that had ever passed through his hands had ever felt nearly as valuable or precious as his chick settled contentedly in his arms.
“Hi there, eyas,” he breathed, dipping his head so Keigo’s wandering hands could pat at his face as the chick chirped curiously. He opened his mouth to say something else, but no words came out. His jaw clicked shut again, carefully avoiding little fingers aiming for his mouth.
What did one say to their chick, anyways?
He heard Tomie chuckle, before moving away back to the garden while Shinya and Keigo stared at each other unblinkingly.
He opened his mouth to try again, only this time, a rumbling croon emerged.
Keigo cooed softly, eyes sliding half shut. His little hand patted at Shinya’s jaw. He cooed again, when Shinya remained silent for a moment too long, little lilting chirps following, as if the little thing was trying to sing.
It - it almost sounded like Tomie’s humming. Maybe he could try -
What was that song, from that movie? The one that Tomie had liked watching with him, some old Disney classic from the pre-Quirk era -
“Baby mine, don’t you cry,” he hummed, rocking his arms gently, Keigo cooing at the lilting tone of Shinya’s voice, “Baby mine, dry your eyes.”
Keigo chirped, and that precious, terrifying warmth growing in his chest bloomed. There were tears prickling at his eyes.
“Rest your head close to my heart” he crooned as Keigo yawned, big baby-gold eyes fluttering as he nuzzled into his father’s chest, “never to part, baby of mine.” Baby down brushed against his skin, the slight movements petering out as the chick conked out to the melodic sound of Shinya’s voice. And for the longest time, Shinya felt like he couldn’t move. Couldn’t bear it. Not when the chick’s - his chick’s, his little eyas - breathing smoothed, little whispers of the rapid pace curling into his ears along with the quiet cheeps of a contented little thing.
His heart hurt.
It had never felt so full. So warm.
“I’m gonna give you the world, baby mine,” he whispered, “I promise.”
end.